Interferences of the Goblin King Sort
by SuicidalAphrodite
Summary: Every fangirl has her own conversations with our Beloved Goblin King. These are mine.
1. Chapter 1

**Aboard the Love Boat Challenge: for Labyrinth.**

**A/N-This was a challenge by Kyota-Chan originally intended for Harry Potter fan fiction writers. But I thought I could use most of the prompts for a Labyrinth tale. There is a list of words, which should be the title of the chapter and relate some how to its contents. I intend it to be humorous, and I hope it is because I've never written comedy before. Please feel free to (kindly) tell me if I have failed .**

**As for a description: every fangirl has her own conversations with the Goblin King. These are mine. So to speak. Enjoy**

**~Interferences of the Goblin King Sort~**

**~Chapter One: Gnomes~**

It was a very early seven in the morning when I noticed there was something very wrong with my lawn gnomes. And by wrong, I mean that I didn't have lawn gnomes before I went to bed. In fact, I dislike lawn gnomes. I find them, well, creepy. But there they were, pointed hats and all, in all their creepy gnomishness, sitting squat on my grass, covered in dew. As I stood in my fluffy yellow robe, sipping my coffee and watching them out the patio door, it occurred to me that there was something else wrong with these gnomes. Now, I haven't had much experience with lawn ornaments as a general rule, but I'm fairly sure that they don't breathe. And although these little guys were standing almost perfectly still, they were most certainly breathing.

I had a brief thought of panicking before it occurred to me that this had disgruntled bird-brained king written all over it.

I coughed, clearing my throat, and bellowed, "Jareth!"

There was barely a delay before my kitchen filled with blue smoke and enough glitter to furl the entire 1980s. I turned to find the fluffy-haired, sleepy-eyed Goblin King standing in my kitchen, dusting glitter off a red smoking jacket.

"Mistress, it is seven in the gods-forsaken morning. What in the devil is so terribly important?" He pulled his sleeves and wrinkled his nose at the mess of glitter and feathers that now covered my while linoleum. As the mess predated his arrival. His lifted one foot and then the other, delicately shaking glitter from his rather un-kingly tiger slippers

"Jareth, why are there gnomes in my garden?" I demanded, foot tapping.

Not hearing me, he marched across my kitchen. "Is that coffee?" He pointed at the coffee pot before helping himself to a cup from the cabinet overhead and pouring some. Glancing out my kitchen window, his brow furrowed. "When did you get lawn gnomes?"

"I didn't!" I exclaimed, exasperated. "That's why I called _you_! Why are they there?"

"You have bad taste in decor?"

"Jareth! Did you have something to do with this?" I dragged him to the sliding glass door and pointed.

"Well of course not. I-oh, oh that's very funny." His thin lips curled into a smirk and he chuckled.

"Just what is so funny?"

"It seems that my goblins were terribly insulted no to be invited to your BBQ last weekend, which I'll admit I was a bit miffed at not warranting an invitation to it myself. They have apparently sent gnomes on a, what's the term, panty-raid." He was laughing pretty hard by now and had to set his coffee cup on the counter.

I whirled to look at the dirty little buggers. Sure as shit, in their tiny fists and stuffed into tiny pockets were various articles from my underwear drawer. A few were even wearing my bras. Oh, the humanity. Or gnomanity, rather.

Forcing myself not to scream, I turned on Jareth, who was purple from laughing. "Do something!"

Jareth opened the sliding glass door and shouted, "Alright that's enough boys. She's found you out! Be gone! And leave the under garments!"

The gnomes squealed and broke into motion, dropping items and scrambling off down the lawn before disappearing in little puffs of pink and yellow smoke. Jareth was positively roaring.

"Jareth, this isn't funny."

"On the contrary, my little lemon tart, its hilarious."

I stomped out into the dewy grass, barefoot and grumbling, and began to scoop up my ruined articles.

"A little help would be positively angelic of you!" I called.

"But I'm having a rather fun time watching you scramble about, picking up you knickers."

"On second thought, the idea of you touching my underwear makes me want to hurl anyways." I muttered.

"Lies." he called back, chuckling.

I growled at him and grabbed my last bra, turning to rejoin him in the kitchen.

I shoved past him into the laundry room, shoving everything inside the washing machine.

He was behind me almost instantly. "Why are you up so early, love?"

"I have to go to work. Not all of us have a job that entails so little." I trotted up the stairs, with Jareth on my heels. "I cannot make a living pretending to govern goblins."

"Pretending? I don't pretend! You should know, you've seen my castle!"

"Jareth," I said, turning on him half way up the stairs so I could look down on him for once. "You look after goblins all day, and do a rather shabby job of it to say the least. I'd hardly call what you do important."

"Well, now that's just cruel."

"I learn from the best."

"I did not put the goblins up to stealing your undergarments, if you can even call them that. So don't get snippy with me." He followed me into the bathroom, after which I turned and promptly shoved him back out again, closing the door.

"Go away, Jareth. I have to get ready for work."

"Aye, perhaps I shall accompany you." His voice was muffled through the door.

"I think not. Last time you nearly blew up the espresso machine."

"Wretched machine," he muttered.

"Good bye, your majesty."

"Pardon?" he opened the door.

I glared at him, glad I was only brushing my teeth. I spat into the sink and turned off the water. "Scoot! Go! Scat." I made a shooing motion with my hands.

"You just shooed me!" he exclaimed in horror. "You cant shoo a king! You blasphemous little-."

"Be gone!" I shouted before he could finish.

He did, but not before he stuck his tongue out in a rather un-kingly fashion.


	2. Lace

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Jareth (snarky bastard. Who'd want to?), the Labyrinth, or the castle beyond the goblin city. I do, however, own fourteen dollar underwear. What? They were purchased at a Billy Idol concert. Don't look at me like that. Totally worth it. And no, I didn't get them autographed. I fail at awesomeness.

**~Chapter 2: Lace~**

The department phone rang. With not a customer in sight, I answered.

"Hey it's Helen." The voice on the other end whispered. " Listen, there's some guy over here in women's underwear. He says he knows you, but he's making some of the other customers uncomfortable. And he's weird looking. Can you come tell him to go away?"

_Dammit. _"Sure, Helen, I'll be right over." I hung up and closed my eyes, willing myself not to scream. Since my Barista job was only part time, I held a second gig at a rather upscale department store in the same mall. This job afforded a certain feather-headed king with plenty of opportunities to torment me.

I trotted over to the lingerie department, ducking behind racks so as not to get caught out of my department. I could see his blonde hair sticking up over the racks of bras and panties. He hadn't even bothered with a disguise this time. Perfect.

"Jareth!" I hissed, ducking behind a rack so as to avoid Helen seeing me.

"Ah! There you are, my little grass hopper!" he bellowed, a wicked smile playing at his mouth. "What do you think of these?"He held up a pair of black lace underwear.

"Give me that!" I darted forward, snatching at them only for him to hold them tauntingly over my head. "What are you doing here? You cant be here dressed like that!" I gestured to his tight leather leggings, lacy poet shirt and knee length boots. And a cape. Dear god, why did he have to be wearing a cape.

"What's wrong with what Im wearing, pray tell?"

"Get out of here!"

Instead, he grinned and marched towards the register. I made a grab for the underwear again, failing miserably. He reached the counter where Helen stood, white faced.

"I'll take these." He smiled a toothy grin at her. Helen opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. She gingerly took the underwear from his gloved hand and rang them up silently.

"$13.50 please, sir." Her voice was barely audible.

Jareth turned expectantly to me. I gave him a questioning look and he raised his eye brows.

"What? Oh, no, you cant be serious. Jareth, I don't even buy 14 dollar underwear for myself!"

"Well, turtle dove, I highly doubt she'll accept goblin gold but if you think I should try..." he reached into his pocket.

"No god, no. Here." I fished a twenty out of my pocket and handed to him. "You owe me."

"My life, sweet lady." He proudly handed Helen the twenty. Her eyes flashed to me and a smile curled the corners of her wrinkled mouth. I could see the rumors starting now. _Oh no._

"Those are not for me." I hissed at her as Jareth strolled away, swinging the bag.

"Sure." She smiled at me. "I always knew you liked the weird ones." She positively cackled. I refrained from smacking her although the impulse was strong.

"Helen, he's just a friend. I mean, not even a friend. Just some one who..." She clearly wasn't listening. "Oh never mind." I stomped away.

Mister fancy-pants was no where to be seen, and I didn't see him again until the following day, at the cafe. He was dressed a little more casually this time. And by casual I mean he'd left his cape at the castle.

"What do you want?" I hissed over the roar of the espresso machine.

"I just thought you should know that those underwear are extremely uncomfortable."

"Jareth, be quiet!"

"I don't think those were men's underclothes. That lace was very itchy." As he said this, loudly to be heard over the espresso machine, that traitorous little contraption chose the most opportune moment to shut off.

I may never live this down.


	3. Pink

**Disclaimer:** Are these even really necessary? I mean, the website is called "." It's pretty stinking obvious that we're using copyright characters right? Just putting that out there. Now then, on to the same old yada yada: I, humble fangirl, own nothing of the Labyrinth, it's inhabitants, or it's self centered, birdbrained King. I do own two copies of the movie and a copy of each of the follow-up graphic novels. But does that give me any rights? No. Am I bitter? Yes.

**~Chapter Three: Pink~**

"What do you think of my new shirt?"

I jumped, nearly ramming my toothbrush down my throat. I spat out the toothpaste and turned, ready to chew the rat bastard out for sneaking up on me. I didn't get very far before bursting out laughing

Jareth stood preening and admiring the hot pink dress shirt he wore.

"Now, Jareth, don't take this the wrong way or anything, but, well, it's pink."

"Yes?"

"Well, it's just that, it's very, very pink. Like I'm a girl and I don't think I even have anything quite that pink."

"Your point?"

"Uh, I don't know how to say this but I don't think Goblin Kings should wear pink."

"The sales woman, darling little thing, said pink is the new black. And besides, what do you know about what Goblin Kings should and shouldn't wear. I'm the only one there is so shouldn't I be the one setting the standard?" He tugged at the sleeves, looking rather proud of himself.

"If you say so."

"Well, you just wait right here while I show my goblins. I bet they'll love it and find me all the more terrifying." And he was gone in a swirl of blue smoke and glitter.

I sighed. Let him learn the hard way. I stomped down the stairs and grabbed my broom. I had just finished sweeping up the glittery mess when my efforts proved futile and he reappeared amidst all new sparkles.

I didn't have time to laugh before he threw me a threatening glare. He was covered in food, tomatoes and pea soup mostly, and across his forehead in red lipstick was the word 'gurrl.'

"How did they..."

He held up a gloved hand. "I do not wish to speak of it."

"Jareth, not to be rude, but you're dripping tomato juice all over my floor."

"Oh do shut up or I will be forced to do to you as a I did to them." He snapped, shaking his hair. Chunks of gooey red tomato guts flung everywhere.

"And that is?"

"Into the bog with them all. Dirty little mongrels."

"Jareth, um, you have something on your face." I grinned.

**A/N: Just to be clear, I have no problem with men wearing pink shirt. In fact, I rather like pink shirts on men. But the image of Jareth in a pink shirt makes me giggle like an idiot. Also, I would like to thank **_**Mickey Caresen **_**and **_**Princess of Fae **_**for reviewing, and a thank you to those who've added this to their "alert" or "favorites" list. Your support is appreciated! Thanks guys!**


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